


never underrate a man

by dancinghopper



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon Divergence, I JUST LIKE THESE TWO OK !! THEYRE IN LOVE, M/M, also i guess this is, because the characters are all written how i think they should be written, better than they are in the show, idk what jugs sexuality is in this fic, maybe he’s just archiesexual, soulmate au that isn’t a soulmate au, which is to say, yes i am extremely modest thank u for noticing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 01:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16587989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinghopper/pseuds/dancinghopper
Summary: “See,” says Archie, tiny and ten years old, with a slight lisp to his words due to the new gap in his teeth. He points at his own mole, on the same spot on the same arm. “We’remeantto be best friends.”(in which riverdale is just a town, and archie and jug are just kids, and are also kind of in love)





	never underrate a man

**Author's Note:**

> this is a canon divergence in that jason never gets murdered and ms grundy never comes to town and none of the adults are laundering drugs or plotting schemes or whatever whatever. so it’s basically like riverdegrassi
> 
> enjoy xx

When they’re kids, Archie is the first to point it out - he jabs his finger right into Jughead’s arm, right over the mole on his bicep, smile crooked and too large for his small face.

“See,” he says, tiny and ten years old, with a slight lisp to his words due to the new gap in his teeth. He points at his own mole, on the same spot on the same arm. “We’re _meant_ to be best friends.”

At the time Jughead likes that Archie is so certain of them, even though he doesn’t have the words or the capacity to understand why. He just knows that he likes that Archie is his best friend, and he likes that he is Archie’s best friend, too. It’s simple.

He understands better later.

***

In their second year of middle school, Archie tells Jughead that he thinks Allison Harper is kind of pretty. This doesn’t bother Jughead. Allison Harper is good at drawing and has the best crayons, so he tells Archie that in response.

“Yeah,” says Archie. “She’s pretty cool.”

***

They try alcohol for the first time when they’re fifteen, holed up in the treehouse and sharing a can of beer Jug’s dad gave him to make up for not having any food in the house.

Archie shrugs as he looks down at it. “I don’t feel anything.”

Jughead says: “Maybe you do, but it’s just not what everyone told you it would feel like.”

Archie laughs.

***

They go on a road trip to celebrate the fourth of July, just the two of them because Betty has an internship and frankly there’s no one else they’d like to invite. Jughead’s always found that funny - Archie’s got no shortage of friends, he gets along with everyone, but he always seems to pick Jughead above everyone else, which is kind of flattering.

There’s another word for it, but Jughead doesn’t want to delve too deep in fear of discovering what it is.

That’s the road trip where they try and fail to catch a fish, where they sleep in the back of Fred’s truck and pretend they’re not watching the stars, and the road trip where on the way back Archie says:

“I tried, um. I tried writing some songs, the other day.”

“Oh?” says Jughead.

“Yeah. I thought, uh. Well, you’re pretty good at writing. I thought you might want to hear them.”

He doesn’t ask, because asking would be a vulnerable experience, but Jughead doesn’t mind. He doesn’t ask for much either.

“Okay,” he says, “Put ‘em on.”

“W - What?”

“You gotta have some recorded on your phone,” says Jughead, and picks it up. He taps in Archie’s passcode. “Let me put them on.”

Archie flushes. “Uh,” he says. “Okay.”

Jughead picks one at random, but he only gets to hear a few bars before Archie slams his hand against the stereo, twisting the volume down in a flash.

“Um,” he says again, and coughs. He’s blushing even more. “Not that one.”

He gives Jughead a USB with some files, telling him to _take_ _them_ _home_ _so_ _I don’t have to watch you listen to them_ , but the song Jughead heard in the car isn’t on there. Still, they’re pretty good, and he says so to Archie who, even though Jughead’s not singing his praises, still lights up like the fucking night sky.

***

Veronica talks about soulmates once after she starts going out with Cheryl Blossom. Her and Betty are talking about a movie, and Veronica says:

“Cheryl has six freckles on her hip that make a triangle.”

Jughead doesn’t understand what that has to do with anything, but Betty gasps. 

“Like your star sign,” she says, wistfully, “Oh, _Vee_. That’s so romantic.”

*** 

Jughead doesn’t think soulmates are a real thing, so he definitely doesn’t really want to think about why Betty and Veronica’s conversation makes him think of Archie. What he does think is that his and Archie’s shared moles could make for an interesting bout of symbolism if their life was a film or a book.

He’s into movies, now, but he still writes. They say write what you know, but nothing has ever happened to Jughead, so he mostly eschews that advice. He writes about Riverdale, except there’s a murder, a good one, with a juicy conclusion he hasn’t quite figured out yet, and it’s interesting to put in real people and imagine their reactions, figure out their pressure points, and so maybe he is writing what he knows after all, just a little bit.

He tries to write something original, something that could be published without leading to him being sued by Riverdale’s inhabitants. He writes something that’s pulled entirely from nowhere, and deletes it when he’s four chapters in.

It doesn’t help that he’s starting to see any story without Archie as not worth telling. 

*** 

Jughead knows he’s a bit of a cliche: depressed kid, into film and crime fiction, half living on the street, but he refuses to be a cliche about this.

He doesn’t tell Archie for this reason, although maybe that’s just him buying into a different kind of cliche. But he  shuts up and ignores the clenching of his chest and how his eyes keep catching on Archie even when they’re in a room full of people, and when they watch an action flick he falls asleep against Archie’s shoulder like he always does, like he always has, because Archie Andrews is his best friend.

*** 

“Your leg’s jittering,” says Jughead at lunch. Archie takes a bite of his PB&J.

“I have to start with the ball on Thursday,” he says, “I’m covering for Reggie.”

“Oh.” Jughead slurps on his slushie, a blue one, because he’s adventurous and likes that it tastes like an electric shock. “You’ll be alright. You’ve done it before.”

“It’s nerve wracking,” says Archie.

“Nah,” says Jughead. “I watch you every time and you’re fine.”

Archie grins at him, and even though his face has grown to fit his smile, Jughead still thinks he looks like the little kid he once was. 

***

Veronica does it, because of course she does, because even though she’s been there the shortest she’s still the one who seems to impact their lives the most. 

“Look at that,” she says suddenly, looking at him and Archie. They both have their arms crossed on the table, a road map spread out in front of them as they plan their next trip, B&V included, this time. It’s hot, and Jughead’s wearing a t-shirt that was probably Archie’s, once upon a time.

(He’s been crashing on the Andrew’s couch since the drive in closed, but that was almost a year ago, now, so maybe he ought to just start calling a spade a spade and say he’s living with them.)

“What?” says Archie.

“You and Jughead have the same mole on the same arm,” says Veronica. “Look.”

“Yeah,” says Jughead, and eats a fry. “We know.“

Veronica smiles. “Destined to be best friends,” she says, in that lofty way of hers that makes him think she’s talking about something entirely different.

Archie doesn’t say anything. 

***

Jughead calls shot gun and doesn’t relinquish his title until they reach their destination. He plays his shitty pop playlist and puts the window down even though it’s only Spring and the wind’s still cold, and at some point amongst Archie singing along to the Spice Girls and beating him in eye spy Jughead forgets that Betty and Veronica are even there. 

*** 

They set up a campfire and start talking; about their parents, their futures, the fact that they don’t know what to do with them.

“I had a thought,” says Archie, and then shuts his mouth.

“What?” says Jughead.

Archie pokes at a bit of dirt with some kindling. “It’s stupid.” 

Veronica grins, eyes sparkling. “Go on, Archiekins.” 

Archie huffs a smile. “I just. I had this idea that after graduation, instead of going to college, we’d both - we’d all just move to New York.”

He grins at Jughead, but it’s a little shy, and something in it makes Jug smile back. 

“You’d be a writer, I’d be a musician. We’d both live in the East Village or something, just doing our thing.”

Betty leans forward slightly, hand underneath her chin, and smiles. “And where are me and Veronica in this situation?”

Archie breaks eye contact with him, and Jug follows his gaze to look at the girls.

“You’re roommates on Park Avenue,” he says, and they all laugh, though Jughead isn’t really sure why.

***

Betty and Veronica go to bed, and it’s just him and Archie, watching the fire and thinking. Archie’s thinking so loud he can hear it, so Jughead says:

“East Village, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Archie shifts so that he’s facing him a little better, and Jughead mirrors it. Whatever Archie’s about to get off his chest, he’s obviously been thinking about it a while. 

“Jug,” says Archie, and his voice wobbles. He opens and closes his mouth a few times. “Please don’t hate me for this.”

Jughead blinks at him. The firelight dances across one side of his face. “Hate you for what?” 

Archie _visibly_ hesitates, and then he moves - just a little bit - towards Jughead. He _leans_. 

 _Holy shit_ , thinks Jughead. _Holy fucking shit_.

His heart is pounding against his ribs, and he’s a writer, he should be able to come up with something better than that, but he can’t. He can barely _think_ , and Archie is so close, and he’s still leaning, and _holy shit_ , this really is happening. Like a magnet, Jughead leans in too, but only the slightest bit, just in case he’s wrong.

The woods are silent. He can hear the scrunch of gravelly dirt when Archie shifts his weight, he can hear the rustle of his own hoodie, he can _hear_ Archie’s _breath_. He moves his leg and his knee hits Archie’s, presses against it. He’s going to suffocate. 

Archie moves even closer, and Jughead knows he’s not wrong. His eyes drop down and Archie mirrors it, and even though Jughead tries to keep his eyes open they close by themselves, and he sees just the barest flash of freckles on Archie’s cheekbone before Archie kisses him.

Archie _kisses him_.

“Archie,” mumbles Jughead after a moment, when Archie is just hovering in front of his face like he’s waiting for Jughead to hit him, or move away, or do something that’s very much the opposite of what Jughead wants to. “Are you okay?” 

Jughead doesn’t open his eyes, but he feels Archie do so, feels Archie’s gaze flit across his face.

“Yeah,” he says. “Are - are you?”

Jughead nods. One of Archie’s hands brush against his jaw. 

“Can I...?”

“Yeah,” says Jughead, and sees Archie kiss him again through his eyelashes.

***

They’re sharing a tent, and getting from here to there is clumsy, and so is settling down for the night. Jughead wriggles into his sleeping bag with difficulty, fingers numb and face sore from grinning. In the dark, Archie grins back like if he stops he’ll die, and Jughead catches him pressing his face into his pillow to hide it, and it just makes him grin even more.

***

Jughead gets up first. Archie sleeps late even on the best of days, he won’t change that just because they’re in nature and the sun exists. So Jughead gets up and cooks sausages for Veronica and Betty and himself, and he even chucks an egg in there for Archie.

Archie stumbles out when Jughead is eating his sixth sausage, and he doesn’t look at him because if he does he’s sure he’ll explode.

“Hey,” says Archie, nervously, and like Icarus Jughead looks at him anyway, and he looks at his rumpled hair and his science fair t-shirt and the guarded look in his eyes, and Jughead says: “Your eggs’ve gotten cold.”

It’s a little mean, maybe, but he smiles so hard that his cheeks hurt all over again, and he’s sure Archie’ll understand that, because Archie has been his best friend since god knows when, and Archie Andrews knows what his face looks like when he’s happy.

Archie smiles back, after a second, and Jughead’s pretty sure he does explode, then.

***

They talk about it easily. Bluntly. Archie says _so_ while they’re waiting for Betty and Veronica to use the convenience store’s bathroom, and Jughead says _yeah_ , and basically that’s that. Archie’s looking at him sappily, so Jughead says _shut_ _up_ and reaches across to punch him in the arm, right over the mole on his bicep. His eyes catch on it, and Archie looks down, too.

“Told you,” mutters Archie, like he’s won a ten year long argument.

Jughead wants to bite back, but finds he can’t quite manage it.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess you did.”

**Author's Note:**

> i just (clenches fist) really love these dumb kids
> 
> thanks for reading !!


End file.
